Cajun Hospitality
by Melfina Lupin
Summary: Rogue is depressed (what else is new?) and leaves the x-men for a night. Who comes to her aid but the Ragin’ Cajun himself.


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Cajun Hospitality by Yui

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Author's note: Rogue is depressed (what else is new?) and leaves the x-men for a night. Who comes to her aid but the Ragin' Cajun himself. Yay. In this world 'Cajun Spice' doesn't exist. ^^; In advance, this fic makes so sense but still read it if you like Romy. ^__^ I'm still working on 'Rainy day road trip'; this is just a long muse of mine.

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Disclaimer: I don't own X-men or the Lyrics to 'Downfall' by Matchbox 20

~*~*~*~

Come on and lay it down

I've always been with you

Here and now

Give all that's within you

Be my savior

And I'll be your downfall – Matchbox 20

~*~*~*~

Rogue sulked silently as she gazed out of the large bay window in on of the empty Recreational rooms. Outside a dark gray overcast fitted her dark mood and the dangerous clouds threatened a furious rain just like her. The threat of tears just lingered covertly behind her aching eyes. It felt if she just gave a quiet sob of surrender, the dam would shatter and the tears would rush to the surface as violently as a contained animal. Maybe if there would be a thunderstorm she could finally have the permission she needed to break down and cry. She wanted to drop to the ground and wail until her screams smashed the sun. 

Rogue didn't know exactly what made her depressed. Maybe all the stares and the calmly given cold shoulder had happened one to many times. Or maybe if could be the fact that she had murdered Mystique and gave the world its death warrant when she released Apocalypse from his lengthy slumber. She felt so alone and alienated. Maybe if she could just get away, she'd be okay. But how could she just pack her things and leave the institute? Where would she go? She couldn't make it outside of the Xavier Institute. No one would hire a depressed gothic girl who was a known mutant. She was stuck there no matter what.

Slowly a couple of tears came and blurred her vision. Sniffing pathetically, she lowered her head and sobbed as a few raindrops patted lightly on the window. That's when the door opened and in walked Jay, Sam, Kurt, and Amara. There were laughing up a storm and talking as loudly as they could, too caught up in their world to notice Rouge hastily wipe her tears away in the corner.

"Hey, Rogue, mind if we crash?" Ray asked, finally seeing her at the other side of the room.

"Why ask?" She snapped out and rushed out into the hallway before they could stop her. She made a point to ignore her brother. He had already hurt her so much with his silence. 

Without thinking much she ran up to her room that she shared with Kitty. Her roommate wasn't in and Rogue was relieved. Despite all that happened with the other mutants, Kitty was still friendly and sweet to Rogue. It hurt Rogue to know that she might upset Kitty by leaving. But she pushed that thought away and gathered a suitcase. She filled it with some clothes and found her money in her top drawer of her bureau. There wasn't much, just enough to maybe stay at a hotel for the night. But that was enough. She desperately needed to get away from the Institute. She slammed her suitcase shut and violently pulled on a long black sweater. Not bothering to leave a note, Rogue stole quietly out of her gigantic home.

If the heavens decided to open up and rain the cold tears of the saints upon her, she didn't care. She just wanted to be alone with her grief though she was disappointed that no one was around to see the anguish in her eyes. Maybe all she wanted was for someone to reach out to her, to show her that they cared.

The wind was as sharp as it was icy while it blew across the open terrain from the frosty ocean below the bluffs. Shivering under her sweater, she wrapped an arm tightly around herself and walked. She really didn't care where she was going. She would eventually make her way into the city and find a cheap place to crash for the night. With her head down, her breath came out in soft sobs as she walked down the rode. Her tears fell freely since no one was around to gape at her. 

Minutes passed and when she finally looked up, Rogue realized that she made come upon the City Park. Before she knew it, she was walking through the tall stone entrance and followed the narrow deep path that twisted deeper into the soggy woods. When she discovered a solitary stone bench, she opted to set down and rest her tired limbs and to catch her breath. Still crying, but softly so, she sat down and shivered dismally, sitting her suitcase down next to her. She knew that she looked pitiful but she didn't care. No one was around to see her angst. She was completely alone and she could cry and grieve all she wanted to.

"Now why would a girl be sittin' all by her lonesome here?" a voice, low and sensual and obviously male, questioned from behind Rogue, shattering her solitude in a million irredeemable pieces.

An icy shock ran throughout her system. Without hiding her tears, Rogue automatically looked over her shoulder to see who it was thought she knew that damn voice from anywhere. A few feet away from her stood a tall young man with dark auburn hair and sultry demon eyes. She recognized him instantly and glared at him. His alias was Gambit and he had been the late Magneto's henchman. 

Gambit was smirking like a cat that found a bowl of warm milk for the taking and was wrapped up in a long brown trench coat that made Rogue immediately envious. When he noticed her pale face, the cocky smile dropped and he carefully pondered her.

"And an x-girl at that," he mused quietly, an eyebrow cocked in thought. 

"What the hell do you want?" Rogue snapped angrily. He was, after all, the enemy and he had almost blown up her hand.

Gambit shrugged nonchalantly, dismissing her fury with a slight frown. "Nothin', chere," he drawled slowly, shuffling the deck of cards lazily in his gloved hands. "What be the matter with you?"

She scoffed. Like I'd really tell you, she thought.

"Nothing." Rogue lied to him although it was pretty pointless. Anyone could see that nothing was all right for her at the moment.

Gambit took a step closer, slipping the cards into a pocket, and she tensed. "It's all right," he purred, raising his hands palm-forward. He talked to her as if she was a dangerous animal he wanted to calm down. "You can trust Remy. I ain't gonna hurt you, chere."

In a huff, Rogue jumped to her feet. "Just leave me alone, all right?" she ordered before grabbing her belonging and running down the path away from him. Part of her hoped to loose the cocky bastard but a bigger part of her longed for him to chase after her. He had been the only one so after all who had talked with her. Rogue wasn't disappointed. She didn't get far when a firm hand grabbed her elbow, forcing her to come to an immediate standstill.

"Let me go!" she snapped immediately.

"Non," was the determined reply. "No girl crys her eyes out in a park and wants privacy. You're reachin' out to someone, chere. Anyone. It's just my luck that I be the only one who found you."

Rogue frowned at him and glared even though she knew that he was right. "Don't tell me what I'm doing. You don't know anything about me!" she rebuked. "Why can't you just leave me alone? This ain't none of your business."

Gambit shook his head. "Can't let a girl beat herself up," he told her, smiling slightly, his southern purr rolling off his tongue. "Ain't right."

She fumed quietly, like a simmering teakettle on the verge of wailing. "You're the enemy," she told him, talking through clinched teeth.

"Was," he drawled out slowly, a smirking half-smiling drawing up a corner of his mouth, "but no longer, petite. Magneto's gone."

She scowled darkly and put her hands on her hips. "So? That doesn't mean we're friends or anything so why do you care?"

He studied her like he was trying to see inside her soul. She didn't much care for his unwavering red-on-black eyes and looked away, feeling more than a little violated. He didn't let go of her either but she stopped fighting him. It was useless anyway.

"Why do you care?" she inquired again. 

"Believe it or not, Rogue," he told her, "I've been watching you for weeks. I know you like I know the back of my hand."

She didn't know if she should be flattered or violated. She decided to be angry instead. "Then you should know what's wrong with me," she retorted rudely.

He smirked. "You never talk about how you really feel so I never know with you, chere. Now, wanna tell me what's the matter with you?"

She glared at him. "No."

"Why not?"

"I hardly know you and you're my enemy."

"All ready went over that, petite."

"It isn't any of your business," she repeated.

His grin turned a little more shrewd. "You're running out of excuses, darlin'."

"Shut up."

"Besides it doesn't matter," he said, shrugging. "You need to get something off your chest and you need to do it before you hurt yourself."

Rogue jerked her arms out of his hand, her yes full of anger as she stared at him. "Don't you think I've tried?! But no one cares!" In a fit of frustration, she dropped her suitcase and pulled back her sleeve, exposing the noxious flesh of her arm. Gambit didn't back away but frowned when he saw the angry gash that mutilated the milky skin of her underarm. "No girl hurts herself and says everything is all right," she told him.

He moved his dark eyes to her face. "You cut yourself?"

Rogue nodded and covered the self-inflicted wound, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. "Only once," she murmured in a small voice, "with a razor blade."

"You're lucky you didn't hit a vein. Did you see a doctor about it?"

"It's not deep. I'll heal in a week." Self-conscious and weak, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked off into the dismal thicket. 

"Then what?" he asked quietly.

She looked back at him. "What do you mean?"

"Will you keep on hurting yourself as your grief eats you up from the inside? Because that will happen if you don't talk to someone soon."

"And you think you're the one?"

"You have my full attention, chere," he offered. "And I ain't leaving anytime soon."

Rogue sighed. "It would be better if I just went away," she whispered quietly. She saw him step closer in the corner of her eye but she didn't move away when he placed a warm hand on her shoulder.

"That's why you have de suitcase? You leavin'?"

"I ain't leaving them permanently. I just need to get away from the Institute for a while," she told him. "I was gonna find a hotel to stay at for the night or something. It's just…too much. I'll snap if I have to stay another second there."

"What did they do to you?" Gambit asked quietly.

She bit her lower lip, feeling the cold tears surface again, and she quickly looked away. "They hate me," she whispered. The tears poured down her face but she didn't care. "I hate me."

"Why?"

She closed her eyes. It was so hard to explain especially to her ex-enemy how things were in here life. But he was the only one willing to listen. She might as well give it a shot.

"I killed Mystique," she confessed in a hushed murmur. "I'm a murderer, I hurt my brother, and disappointed everyone at the Institute. They all hate me." 

She put her gloved hands to her face and cried. She was so troubled that she let him wrap his arms around her and pull her close for a comforting hug. She just had been so lonely and hurt for so long. With part of the truth finally out, she sobbed with guilt and relief, no longer finding the strength at act strong. 

"I've never felt so alone in my life," she said quietly when her sobs waned. "Even though she had betrayed me so many times in the past, Kurt was hoping to save her. That idiot! Mystique was completely defenseless when I killed her in front of him. That completely ruined him!"

"Are you regretting that Mystique is dead, chere?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, frowning. "I'm just so confused. Kurt was so hopeful that I could save her and we could have had our mother back. I hate her but I just wish she had died some other way and that I wasn't the one who killed her. I wish she could have tried to be a mother but she just used and manipulated me. But still…"

"She was your mother."

She nodded dejectedly. "Yeah."

"Have you told any of this to Kurt?"

She gave a disconsolate laugh. "He wouldn't listen to me. He's angry and hurt."

"But so are you, chere."

"He's in worse condition," she replied automatically. "I'm use to being the outcast. I'm used to being sad and lonely."

"Not this sad, chere," Gambit contradicted. "And your feelings are just as important as your brother's. Don't degrade what you feel."

"I can deal with it," she insisted, for a moment not believing that she was actually taking advise from him.

"You're not that strong, chere."

She glared at him. "Screw you," she hissed.

"There's something else too," Gambit told her, ignoring her venom.

"I released Apocalypse."

He didn't miss a beat. "That wasn't your fault, chere. You were being controlled."

"What does that matter? No matter which way you look at it, it's all my fault."

"No it wasn't. Besides we'll find a way to stop him before he makes his move. Just wait and see. Something will come up, chere."

"And if it doesn't?" Rogue cried out in exasperation. "It will be my fault if he destroys the fucking world."

Gambit sighed and said, "He won't."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Good guys always win." He smiled down at her and she temporally forgot her brooding mood. "Come on, chere. You need to get out of the rain and find a place to crash. If you're still bent on staying someplace else tonight I know just where you can go."

"Is it cheap?" Rogue found herself asking.

Gambit nodded. "Oui. The cheapest but it's safe."

"Where is it?"

"My place."

She glared at him like he was out of his mind. "_What_?"

"My place," he repeated slowly. "I have my own apartment in New York."

"I ain't going with you," she replied almost laughing right in his face. The whole thing was completely ridiculous! "You're insane if you think I'll go to New York with you!"

"Why, chere? You need a place to stay and it just happens that I have an extra bedroom. It's simple," Gambit told her. "It's safe and warm. It's cheap. I can't see myself taking money off you or anything. How much to you have on you?"

"About 40 dollars."

She felt insulted when she saw him scoff. "40 is gonna get you a shit hole in a bad part of town. Either you stay with me or take some money off of me."

"What? No way."

"Why, Rogue? Personally the image of you shaking up in a rundown hotel disturbs me to the point were I want to be uncharacteristically charitable," he said, withdrawing a wallet from his trench coat and pulling out a 100 bucks. He waved it in front of her face like a flag. "Here. That this."

Rogue scowled dangerously at him. "I ain't no charity case," she rebuked viciously. "And I don't need your goddamn money either."

"Fine," he replied, the slight irritation in his voice thickening his accent. He replaced the bill in the wallet, returning it immediately to the safety of his coat. "That settles it. You're coming with me, Rogue."

"I don't even know you," she countered, shaking her head and taking a step backwards. "How do I know you won't kill me or something."

He sighed. "If I did, you'd probably kick my ass without even trying, darlin'," he told her. "Besides why would I do such a thing? We're not enemies any more. Come on, chere. I promise I won't try anything funny. Thief's honor." He held up three fingers just like a scout and grinned down at her.

Rogue was tempted to roll her eyes and scoff. Since when was a thief's promise any good? But she wasn't sure what do to. It was bad enough that she poured her heart out to him. Should she go? Her thoughts were broken when something warm and heavy settled on her shoulders, lessening her chills almost immediately. Surprised, she looked up and saw Gambit's coat hanging on her shoulders. The sheer size of the thing dwarfed her, making her pleasurably small.

"You looked cold," he explained.

"Um…thanks," she replied, resisting the urge to snuggle deeper into the warm scented leather. "What about you?" Her heart pitter-pattered slightly when she saw that he was wearing a pair of close-fitting leather pants.

"I'm fine," he said. "So, what do ya say, chere? Wanna come?"

Rogue sighed and rubbed her fingers over her tired eyes. "Why are you being so nice to me?"

He shrugged. "Call it good ol' Cajun hospitality."

"Fine, whatever, Gambit," Rogue muttered. It was pointless arguing with him anyway and she was getting tired. "I'll go but it's only for tonight. And if you trying anything funny with me, I'll make you pay."

Gambit laughed and flashed a quick smile and grabbed her suitcase before leading her down the path. "Call me Remy by the way, chere," he told her.

"Sure," she replied and followed him.

~*~*~*~

They didn't walk far to get to the parking lot. The lot was empty save for a beautiful red and black beauty of a motorcycle sitting by its lonesome. Rogue felt her heart jump with excitement at the sight of it. 

"That's your ride?" she asked, unable to hide the small smile on her face.

"Oui. Like?"

Biting her lower lip, Rogue trailed her fingertips of the glistening silver handles. "Yeah. It's a beauty," she told him, noticing the bright orange flames painted on the side of the bike. Logan would kill to see this bike, she thought to herself before she banished every thought about her mutant family from her mind. She didn't need to think about them and chicken out.

She jumped a little when Gambit strolled up behind her and placed at hand of her shoulder. "Rides like the wind and purrs like a kitten," he muttered proudly. "She be my baby. Ever been on a motorcycle before, chere?"

Rogue nodded. "Yeah. I ain't scared."

"Good," he replied before strapping her suitcase to the back of the bike and climbing on. He held his hand out for her but she ignored him and mounted the seat behind him.

"Here, chere." He handed her a black helmet and winked at her. "Wouldn't want you to smash that pretty head of yours if we crash."

She glared at him and took the helmet, putting it on quickly. She wasn't anticipating the helmet-hair but…whatever. She didn't want to split her head open in case they crash or something.

"Hold on," Gambit advised as he kicked the bike into gear. Rogue scooted closer to him on the leather seat, her thighs brushing his, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Closer to someone than she had been in a while, she was direly uncomfortable.

When Gambit pulled out of the parking lot, Rogue held her breath and tightened her hold. He drove like the devil. She sighed and looked back to the general direction of the X-mansion. Before she could feel any ounce of regret or guilt she ignored the feelings and concentrated on the blast of chilly wind, the vibrating hum between her legs, and the warm body in his arms.

They rode fast to New York, the threat of an immense thunderstorm causing a number of people to stay off the streets that late afternoon. She had only been to New York once and that was on a mission so she was more than a little excited despite her previous depression. For half an hour, Rogue looked out onto the changing scenes, the small town of Bayville fading away to a lonely countryside and then the enormous city of New York at long last. She was amazed that they had gotten there so quickly. Usually it took about an hour to get to the city from Bayville. They must have gone faster than she thought. It felt like she was flying down the rode.

"Hey, Remy!" she shouted over the clamor of the wind. "How fast are you driving?"

" 'Bout 90 mph," he called back. 

Rogue rolled her eyes. "God! You wanna kill us or somethin'?"

"Non, chere. I just love the rush."

"Well, don't get us into trouble with the cops!"

It wasn't long after that that she began to see tall skyscrapers rise from the ground on the horizon. Little a small town girl, Rogue gaped as they rode into the heart of New York. They rode passed hundreds of wondering pedestrians, old buildings, chic restaurants and nightclubs. Finally Gambit pulled into a parking lot and Rogue gaped as she stared up at Gambit's place while he was busy showing some ID to the security cop.

"Welcome back, Mr. Lebeau," he was saying. "I trust that you had a good ride?"

"Better than most," Gambit replied before riding his bike into the lot. Nestled between a red-hot mustang and a gold convertible, he parked his maverick bike and turned the humming engine off. 

"You've got to be kidding me!" she murmured to him as she pulled off the helmet to get a better view of the castle/hotel.

Standing up, Gambit smiled down at her. "Nope. It be the real thing, chere."

She turned to stare at him. "You actually stay at the _Bijou Noir_?"

"What can I say?" he replied. "I'm a man with expensive tastes." He acted like owning a suite in the richest hotel in city was nothing. Rogue heard that it cost more than a 1000 bucks a night and that was not adding the cost of food and other things.

"Where the hell to you get all the money?"

Gambit shrugged and pulled a pair of sunglasses out of a pocket in his trench coat. "Secret, chere," he murmured, smiling as he covered his eyes with the lenses. "Come on. If you like the exterior, just wait until you see the inside. It's amazing."

Completely floored, Rogue followed him without a fuss. The hotel was huge, 15 floors easily, and made out of a deep red brick. White galleries looked like icing on a cake as they wrapped around the building from the second floor up. The windows were large and so was the main entrance. Still shocked, she climbed off the bike and followed Gambit who carried her suitcase for her.

She glanced suspiciously at the man at her side. "If you live here, why the hell where you in Bayville?"

He shrugged. "Bored, chere."

"Bored my ass."

When they made it to the front entrance, a young valet dressed in a gray and red suit opened the door for them. Gambit ignored him and Rogue quickly followed him, feeling more than a little underdressed for the wealthy establishment. It wasn't everyday that a goth got to stroll into a hotel like this. When the valet turned to regard her with a cocked eyebrow, she frowned and flipped him off.

"Nice one, chere," Gambit laughed, walking into the large, golden foyer that looked like it belong to Versailles like he owned the damn place.

"Will you get kicked out for that?" she asked, nervous.

"Nah. I've done worse," he replied, winking down at her. "Flip off as many people you like, chere."

"He gave me a dirty look. I hate when people give me dirty looks." Just then, Rogue saw on elder couple pointing to her and whispering to each other. They didn't look very happy in their fancy clothes. She glared at them.

Gambit wrapped his arms around her shoulder as if trying to protect her. "Settle down, beautiful," he pacified in a low murmur. "They are just old snooty money. They ain't worth it. But feel free to raise some hell with the younger valets. They be punks anyway."

Rogue was fuming on the inside but allowed Gambit to escort her through the large marble lobby. Paintings, magnificent vases of flowers, overstuffed velvet chairs and couches were everywhere. The floor was a smooth white tile while a huge crystal chandelier hung from the grand ceiling. Around her, people turned to stare at her, snootily turning up their nose at her mediocre attire.

"Mr. Lebeau." A middle-aged man in a formal black tuxedo was standing in front of them suddenly. He had a thick French accent. Gambit stopped and smiled at him. "It's good to see you have returned," the man continued. "Did you have a good day?"

"Oui. Merci."

The man smiled and looked at Rogue. His kind exterior never faltered.

"Jacques, this is Rogue," Gambit said, his hold on her tightening a little. "She's a good friend of mine. Treat the lady with respect. She deserves it."

"Of course, monsieur," Jacques replied, smiling warming at her. She had to force herself not to pull away when he reached out to grab her hand and kiss it. "Mademoiselle, you am your very own servant."

Rogue offered a nervous smile and politely withdrew her hand. "Er…thanks."

"What a melodious voice," Jacques remarked. "Tell me, does the lady some from the South?"

"Er…yeah. Mississippi."

Jacques nodded. "I've never seen a more beautiful girl from the river land."

"All right. That's enough, mon ami," Gambit laughed, patting the older gentleman on the shoulder. "I don't pay you to flirt with my girl."

The man turned and bowed slightly as Rogue shot Gambit a suspicious glance but he missed it. "Excusez-moi. My apologies, monsieur," he replied, smiling. "Would you like me to take your suitcase to your room?"

Gambit shook his head and moved away, taking Rogue long with him. "Take care, Jacques."

"Au revior, monsieur." 

"Geez," Rogue muttered under her breath. "You sure this place won't shut down if you leave?"

Gambit laughed. "I'm sure, chere."

"Man, this place is rolling in the money. I can't believe you stay here."

"This hotel **is** impressive," Gambit admitted.

"What floor you live at?"

"De top." They stopped at the elevator and climbed abroad when the doors opened. Despite the crowd in the lobby, the belly of the left was empty so Rouge took advantage of the open space and stood at the other side of the elevator, staring at Gambit with her arms crossed.

"What is it, chere?" he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye as he pushed the floor button in on the panel. He sounded slightly exasperated.

"I don't get it," she told him. "How the hell do you stay here? Where do you get the money? Just exactly how old are you, Remy?"

"Ain't a young whippersnapper," Gambit replied, taking off his sunglasses. "Can we talk about this somewhere else, chere? The Sherlock Holmes style does not suit you."

Rouge put her foot down, not allowing herself to be deterred. So she shook her head and moved across the elevator to push the STOP button. Instantly they came to an immediate standstill and Gambit turned to stare at her, an eyebrow cocked.

"Why are you so concerned, chere?"

"I want you to be honest with me. I got on this boat without thinking straight and I wanna know if you do anything illegal."

"Oh, chere, there are so many gray areas in the sides of legal and illegal," Gambit replied smoothly, a smile of amusement creeping into his demon eyes.

She frowned at him. "How do you get all the money?"

"I work."

"Doing what? I don't think bagging groceries in the local supermarket could pay for dinner crumbs in a joint like this."

"I work for myself," Gambit replied. "That's all I'm gonna say."

Rogue glared at him and quickly grabbed his wallet from his pocket, turning her back to him so he couldn't retrieve the thing from her. She opened the wallet and found his ID as well as a load of green bills. She pulled them out and flipped through them. Most where $100 bills.

Christ! He was loaded.

"Since when does a 23 year old scoundrel from the street carry around this much money by doing honest jobs?" she asked, spinning around to wave his money in the air. "Magneto couldn't have paid you this much."

He glared at her, his red irises on fire with anger. 

"What the hell do you do, Remy? Are you a hit man, a con artist, what?"

"I am whatever I choose to be, petite," he told her. "It just happens that I've chosen to be a very good little thief."

"You're a thief?" Rogue echoed, not at all dazzled. "What do you steal then? Bubble gum? Playing cards?"

His smile was absolutely gorgeous. "Try bigger things like diamonds, chere."

"You steal diamonds?" she echoed, disbelief thick in her voice.

"Oui. And anything else expensive than I have keep my little hands on," he replied, his smile turning into a malicious smirk. Before she could blink, he had snatched his wallet back with on hand and with the other, he held her face firmly in his gloved fingers. 

"Listen to Remy, chere," he told her, his face inches from hers. "I don't blame you for having some questions and I've played nice by answering some but I won't anymore. Call it a thief mentality but I do not like questions." 

She frowned at him, trying to turn her face away from him intense watch. "Let go of me, Remy," she ordered in a hiss though clinched teeth.

The cool animosity in his face suddenly passed and was replaced with devilish amusement once more. "Why?" he purred.

"You're standin' too close," Rogue answered, fighting back the urge to ell at him, "and you're invadin' my personal space, Cajun."

Gambit snickered and moved a couple of more deliberate inches toward her despite her swelling anxiety. She bit her lower lip and looked down, sensing his face mere centimeters away from her own. She could feel his breath on her skin, making her naked flesh quiver, and she blushed at his close proximity, her heart jumping into her throat.

"But you're so beautiful, chere," he murmured, his voice sounding like warm honey against her ear. She could feel his eyes on her face. It felt like his intense gaze was piercing through her black make-up and pale skin to her brittle soul.

"I won't be beautiful when I touch your skin and absorb you," she seethed, her voice dripping with malicious intent. 

"I'm not scared," he replied, his voice dropping a couple of octaves for a more sensual whisper. "Touch me."

Rogue growled and shoved him away from her with all her might. "Asshole!" she shouted. "Stay away from me! I don't even know why I fucking came with you!"

"Calm down, chere," Gambit laughed, catching himself effortlessly before he crashed into the wall of the elevator. "I was only playing with you."

She huffed and crossed her arms. "Screw you, Remy. I don't like to be played with."

"I'm sorry, chere."

"Shut up," she automatically snapped, scowling.

Gambit sighed. "Don't be like that, petite. It'll ruin our evening together."

She rolled her eyes at his pouting expression. "God, why did I even go with you? I must have been outta my goddamn mind! Take me back to the foyer. I wanna go back to Bayville."

"Come on. I promise that I'll stop teasing you," he swore. "Just stay. A night here is so much better than a night in some filthy dump elsewhere. There is a lovely little spa on the bottom floor and you can order any kind of food anytime of the day or night. I'll buy you the best chocolate mousse in New York to make this up to you."

She growled, feeling a very tiny smile pull of the corner of her mouth. "With sprinkles and whipped cream too?" she asked.

He nodded. "Of course, chere."

Rogue bit her lip and pretended to think about it just to put in on edge. "Fine," she murmured after a moment. "I'll stay."

"Good." He flashed a quick smile and hit the button to restart the elevator. The hoist shuddered a bit and continued upwards. 

Meanwhile, Rogue sighed and leaned against the cool wall, ignoring Gambit for the rest of the way. She was a little insulted and surprised that he had convinced her to stay at all. 

After a couple of minutes of silence, they stopped again and the door slide open with a swift 'swoosh'. When Gambit stepped out into the hallway, she sauntered after him, arms stilled crossed. The passageway outside the lift was wide painted a dark red with a rich rug covering the floor. The glow from the golden sconces was pale and intimate. Large burnish doors lined the crimson wall on the left and windows were on the right, bedecked with luscious curtains of velvet and silk. It took her breath away.

Gambit smiled at her over his shoulder. "Come on, petite."

She sent her best death glared his way but followed as he walked further down the hallway. The valets, busy with different orders, paused enough to bow politely at him. He acknowledged them with a few words of greetings before walking on. Finally, they came to his suite and he fished in his back pocket for the key. He slipped it into the lock and pushed in some numbers on the panel on the doorway. Rogue watched the door unlock and open.

"Ladies first, chere," Gambit told her, sidestepping the door.

She rolled her eyes and marched inside the room. It was huge! It felt like she had stepped inside an 18th century French house and she felt slightly out of place with her normal attire and Gambit's trench coat. 

She hesitantly walked inside the living room. In the corner she saw a large black television, stereo, and everything else that seemed odd in a room full of elegant couches, chairs, flowers, and famous paintings.

"Holy hell," she murmured, dumbfounded.

Gambit chuckled as he closed the door, walking in to set her debilitated suitcase on one of the many couches. "Want a tour?"

Rogue gave a numb nod and he grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the living from into a long hallway. He opened a door on the left and Rogue peeked in. It was a kitchen with the modern necessities plus many touches that seemed to come out of France. Further down the hall was the extra bedroom that Gambit was giving her for the night.

"Damn, I feel like Marie Antoinette or something," Rogue muttered, gazing into the room to see the huge bed clothed in silk and the richly decorated furniture that filled the room to the max.

"You have your own bathroom too."

"Really?"

He laughed and showed her a small living room that was much more intimate than the larger one in the front of the suite. Next to that room was a dining room, complete with a chandelier and a long mahogany table. On backtracking to the main room, Gambit said that his bedroom was on the other end of the penthouse. She felt a little more at ease seeing that they would be separated by a couple of rooms.

"You work up a sweat just walking around in here," Rogue exclaimed, dropping down onto one of the couches in exhaustion. "Where are the other two who worked for Magneto? Are they here?"

"Nah," Gambit told her. "Piotr went back to Russia to find his family. And John…well I honestly don't know what that crazy fucker is up too. I saw him a couple of days ago but I never bothered to ask. Mostly likely his alive."

Rogue smiled a little and then asked, "What happened to Piotr's family?"

"Magneto kidnapped them so Piotr would work for him."

She frowned and snarled sarcastically, "Gee, how nice."

"Magneto was a bastard," Gambit told her simply, sitting down on another couch, facing her. 

"And yet you still worked for him."

He shrugged and changed the topic. "It's six," he told her, glancing at the watch at his wrist. "What would you like to do, chere?" 

Rogue decided to let the matter drop. "You owe me a chocolate mousse," she told him

"Dessert always comes after dinner. You hungry?"

She shrugged. She was hungry but she only had so much money to get. No doubt here was nothing under $50 on the menu. "What can 40 bucks get you to eat here?" she asked.

"An overpriced stick of celery perhaps," he replied, smiling. "Don't worry about it. I'll pay for dinner."

She frowned at him. 

"What? Don't like someone spending some cash on ya? I'm getting you dessert, remember?"

"Yeah, but you owe me it to make up for being stupid in the elevator," she replied.

Gambit sighed and before she could stop him, he reached over and grabbed a piece of her hair in his fingers. He gave it a gentle tug and Rogue gasped.

"Hey, what the hell did you do that for?" She shoved his hand away and rubbed the dull ache away.

He smiled and resettled back on his couch. "I'll buy you dinner to make up for it, chere."

She glared at him, her frown masking her amusement. 

"So, with that settled, where do you want to eat? Here or out?"

"I didn't bring any nice clothes," she told him. "If we eat out, you gonna buy me a dress or something?"

He chuckled at her joke. "Nah, chere. If I ever bought you a piece of clothing it definitely would not be a dress." His intense stare and deep voice left little room in Rogue's mind as to what he would get for her.

She frowned and looked away, trying to hide the blush that warmed her cheeks. Why the hell was he flirting with her? It wasn't like she was worth the time.

"Then I guess we stay here for dinner," she muttered after a moment. 

Gambit nodded and stood up, retrieving a cream colored piece of paper from the coffee table. "Here, chere," he said, holding it out for her. "The complete menu of everything the hotel makes. Look over it and find what you want. I'm gonna clean up."

"Okay," Rogue muttered, lower her green eyes to the menu. She frowned. "Nothing is under 25 dollars, Remy. Are you sure?"

"Oui, petite. Get anything you want."

A little uneasy, Rogue offered a mute nod and dutifully read the paper while Gambit left the room. It was hard to know what things where, most of the words were written in French and she had only taken a year of it in school. She would just have to ask him what everything was when he came back. Sighing, she sat the menu beside of on the sofa and pulled off Gambit's trench coat. She was getting too warm to be wearing it. Ready to put it beside her to, she was a little scared when a handgun slipped out of one of the many pockets. It landed with a dull thud on the carpeted floor.

"Jesus!" Rogue hissed. "Shit!"

"What's wrong, chere?" Gambit's voice suddenly asked her. She looked up, her eyes wide with surprise, and she him leaning against the doorframe of his room, arm crossed over his wide chest. He had changed out of his leather pants and black shirt into a sweatshirt and comfy cotton pants. His unshorn auburn hair was damp and tousled, sticking up for the most part.

Rogue felt her heart skip a beat but she was too beside herself to turn all girlie at the enticing site. Without saying a word, she bent down and picked up the gun, holding it up so he could see it. His expression was unreadable and that alarmed her.

"This fell out of your coat," she told him flatly.

"Huh," he mused. "So that's where I put it."

"You mean you didn't know you had it on you!? Why do you have a gun on you?"

He shrugged and moved further into the room. "Forgot I had it in the first place," he told her with a sheepish smile. "Besides it's not illegal to have one."

"It's illegal to carry one though," she frowned at him. 

He leaned down and took the gun out of her hand. "We weren't caught. Don't worry, chere." 

"Why do you have a gun, Remy?"

"Again with the questions," he sighed, shaking his head.

Her frown deepened as she narrowed her eyes. "Are you going to put it away?"

"Oui."

"Can I have the clip?"

"Why?"

"Call it insurance. I don't want to be shot dead in my sleep."

He laughed out loud and removed the clip. "Here, chere," he said, hanging the clip to her. She took it without saying anything and watched as he returned to his room, no doubt putting the gun away in some secret place.

"So, have you decided that you want to eat, petite?" he asked when he re-entered the room.

"No. It's all in French," she told him. "I can't understand it."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," he replied and sat beside her on the couch. He took the menu and held it before them. "What do you want, chere? Salad, soup, beef, chicken?"

"Chicken sounds nice."

"Okay, petite. This meal has chicken that it sautéed in a garlic and parsley broth and then it's baked. In this one," he pointed to another entrée, "the chicken is baked and served on pasta with a very good cheese and tomato sauce. They both come served with dinner rolls, soup, and a side order. What do you think?"

"Umm…I'll take the chicken and pasta dish," she decided.

"Good choice," Gambit commented. "And I will have the oyster and shrimp entrée. Have you ever had French crêpes, chere?" 

She shook her head. "What a crêpe?"

"It a thin pancake made out of egg and flour. In New Orleans, people made them all the time filled them with anything from meats to fruit. Wanna try a meat one, chere? They're very good."

"Okay. God, I'm going to gain so much weight!"

"No talking about that, chere," Gambit replied, holding up a hand, before standing up and making his way to the phone to deal room service. Rogue saw the opportunity to grab her suitcase and make herself at home in her room down the hall to freshen up.

While Gambit talked quietly in French, Rogue walked to the other bedroom and softly shut the door behind her. Once inside, she sighed and leaned against the door, taking a moment to question the reality of all that had happened to her. After a second, she opened her eyes and saw that she was still in her Marie Antoinette bedroom in the wealthiest hotel in the world. She sighed again and walked over to place her suitcase on the bed, retrieving a brush from it. Then she moved into her bathroom to wash her face and comb her hair. 

When she was finished, her face felt much cleaner but her black make-up was gone. So she went back to her suitcase to find her black lipstick and dark eyeliner. She almost screamed when she realized that she hadn't packed it. 

Well, I guess that's what I get when I pack in a hurry, Rogue thought without humor. Pulling out her cotton boxers and white tank top, she glared at her clothes. The shorts were too short and her shirt was too thin. Had she known that she would be staying the night with a boy she would have brought a big, shapeless nightgown. 

She was considering changing at all when a knock came from the door. Rogue jumped.

"Chere? Dinner will be here in half an hour," Gambit called out.

"Okay."

"You all right?"

Rogue coughed, trying to make her voice sound less strained than it really was. "What's it to ya? I'm just cleaning up."

"Just asking." She strained her ears to hear him turn and walk away from her door.

She sighed and sat on her bed, dismally staring at her clothes. Well she couldn't sleep in her day clothes and they were starting to get uncomfortable. Frowning she stripped out of her black pants, sweater, and shirt. She tossed them on the floor and pulled on her shorts and top. She grabbed a sweatshirt from her suitcase and put that on too. Keeping her gloves on, she ran her fingers through her hair and looked at a mirror. She looked so different with no make up on. She felt so vulnerable.

She stuck her tongue out at her reflection and left the bedroom in a huff. Gambit was in the smaller on the two living rooms, sitting on the couch and a deck on cards in his hand. There were some more cards on the table before him and it looked to Rogue that he was playing a game. Rogue couldn't play a hand to save her life so she had no idea what he was playing. 

Without a word, she sat down on the overstuffed chair facing him, her bare feet dangling a couple of inches from the floor. He looked up, smiling.

"You clean up nicely, chere," he murmured, his eyes trailing her body to rest lewdly on her bare legs before traveling up to her face. "I was wondering if the black was part of your skin."

She glared at him. "Hey, Remy, I think you missed some hair shaving," she replied, pointing to his chin.

He laughed and stroked his goatee. "Funny, Rogue. Very funny. But I will not sink to your level and comment on your lovely multicolored dye job." He looked up at her and snickered.

"Dye job?" Rogue replied, thoroughly insulted. "This is natural, you jerk!" For good measure, she grabbed a small throw pillow from the chair and chucked it at him. She was no Jean Grey. Who actually that Miss Popularity's hair color was natural?

He laughed, easily catching the garnished cushion. "Really? It looks nice. I like it."

She frowned, hiding the fact that her heart was an inch from stopping. "Lair."

"No, really," he insisted, returning to his card game. "It suits you. But what I wonder about is your make-up. You're gorgeous either way but why do you where it? You just like being dark?"

"I dunno," Rogue replied, reaching out to touch her naked lips. "I've always worn it. But I can't remember why. I can't remember a lot of things. When my powers manifested, it completely wiped my brain clean. I can hardly remember who I am." Rogue forced a light laugh, not really up to par for another bout of depression.

Gambit frowned in contemplation. "That's tough, chere. But you remember you're from Mississippi?"

"Yeah. That's where they found me. I don't know anymore. I don't even know my name."

"Well, if it be any consolation to you, I was adopted so Lebeau ain't my real last name," Gambit muttered. "I don't know what it is."

She looked up, surprised. "I thought you didn't like talking about yourself."

"I figured that since you were talkin', I might as well talk too." He winked at her. "A secret for a secret, non, chere?"

Rogue felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "All right."

Just then, a loud knock was heard at the front door. They both looked towards the doorway. "That be our food, chere," Gambit told her, standing up. "Stay here. I'll go get it."

She watched Gambit walk out of the room and settled into the chair to get comfortable for the wait. It wasn't long when before he returned pushing a silver cart loaded with their food. She chuckled at the site and leaned foreword to clear the coffee table. Gambit winked at her and placed the entrées on the coffee table.

"Hey, you ever play 54 card pick up, Remy?" she asked, holding his deck of cards in her hands.

"Yes, I have. And don't you dare, chere," he told her, glaring at her.

"Sourpuss," she replied then gaped at the bottle he held. "It that alcohol?" 

"Oui, chere," he replied, grinning. "It ain't the fancy stuff. But it be the best bourbon in town. You wanna try some?"

She shook her head. "I'll pass."

"Ah, chere, live a little, non?"

"No."

"Fine." He finished arranging their meals and sat down on the floor. Rogue grabbed her glass of coke and sipped a little, moving to sit on the floor too. 

"It looks really good," she said, looking down at her plate of food. 

"Just wait until you taste it. Bon appétit, chere."

They ate in comfortable silence until most of the main course was finished. The food was really delicious too, which surprised Rogue. Usually the fancy stuff tasted like shit. She ate almost everything on her plate before she stopped to save room for her chocolate mousse. In disbelief, Rogue watched Gambit finish off his bourbon in one smooth motion.

"How can you do that without puking your guts up?" Rogue found herself asking.

Gambit smiled and shrugged. "I'm from New Orleans, chere. I grew up on Bourbon."

Rogue wrinkled her nose in disgust. "The last time I had alcohol, I spend the next day in bed with a pounding headache and I just had a sip!"

He chuckled. "Went straight to your head. I wonder if you'd be a happy drunk. That would be something too see."

Rogue glared at him. "Have you ever been drunk before?"

He smirked. "What do you think?"

"Yes?"

"Yup. But only a couple of times. It's bad waking up with the urge to puke. It's even worse to wake up in someone else bed and have no idea what happened the night before," Gambit told her, chuckling quietly. But his amusement immediately faded. "I'm sorry, chere. I shouldn't talk like that in front of you."

"Why not?"

"Because I know how your powers limit you and all," he replied. "Probably a touchy subject, non?"

"Nice pun, Cajun," Rogue snorted bitterly.

Gambit looked exasperated. "You know what I meant, chere."

She shrugged, suddenly having the urge to give the Cajun a sip of his own medicine. Feeling dark eyes on her, she slipped out of her sweatshirt as slowly and seductive as she could, making sure to arch her back a bit when she pulled it over her head. With a sigh of relief, she landed her sweatshirt beside her and tried to tame her thick auburn tresses like one of the girl on the stupid shampoo commercials.

"I'm not so limited," Rogue purred out, deliberately thickening her voice. She smirked at Gambit who was watching her every move like a hawk and crawled around the coffee table to join him on the other side. She sat close to him and Gambit cocked an eyebrow, willing to watch what she would do next.

Rogue placed her gloved hands on his shoulders and leaned forward, moving closer and closer to him until their lips were only a whisper a way. She meant to scare him but Gambit didn't move away. He settled his hands on her waist instead and moved dangerously closer. Before she could help herself, Rogue closed her eyes, savoring the feeling of his breath on her lips, the scent of his cologne, and even his warmth. With her eyes closed, she could just imagine that they were ordinary kids with no powers to hinder them. They were on an ordinary date, sharing an ordinary intimate moment where if was just them two forever. 

Rogue could have learned to like being stuck in that enticing dream.

Her eyes were big and drowsy when she reopened them, like she waking up from a long sleep. She met his stare. The intense color of his pupils made a shiver run down her back and reality came crashing down on her in a hard instant.

"Gonna kiss me, chere?" he whispered.

Rogue bit her lower lip, her eyes dropping to his lips. She felt her self-control slipping. "No." But God I'm so tempted to! "I…I wanted to make you nervous," she lamely muttered.

His smile was slow and easy, making Rogue's will power want to fly out the window. He was so damn gorgeous! If only she could only cup his face in her hand and press her lips against his. She would feel so warm and so complete.

"I don't get nervous."

"Sure you don't, sugar," she murmured absentmindedly. Before she had the chance to lose herself, she forced herself to pull back but Remy followed her, acting like he would kiss her. God, he was so close! When she tried to move back again, he caught her face in his gloved hands. Slightly surprised, she stared at him with wide green eyes. For a moment it looked like he was going to say something but he never did. He just stared at her, a question lingering below the surface.

"What?" she asked.

"What were you thinking, chere?" His voice was low and shaky.

"When?"

"Just now. Did you imagine us being just two normal kids in your mind?" Gambit asked softly. 

Rogue looked away. How did he know?

"I thought the same thing, too. And how, if we were just kids, kids without normal powers, I would have liked to kiss you. Would you have done the same, chere?"

She bit her lower lip and thought about it, she thought about telling him the truth. "Yes," she finally confessed. "If we were normal I would have kissed you, Gambit. If we weren't mutants, I bet we would get close. But," She sighed heavily. "We can't change who we are, Gambit. We can't work in the real world. It couldn't happen."

"What? Us becoming close?"

She nodded and it felt like she was dying. "It wouldn't work," she told him again.

"All right, chere," he replied, letting her go. "I see what you are saying. It was just an unattainable dream."

Rogue couldn't find anything to say.

"Why don't you try your mousse?"

She nodded, relieved that the ponderous moment had passed, and returned to her side of the coffee table. While she replaced her sweatshirt, she noticed that Gambit had stood and left.

"Be back, chere," he muttered before disappearing.

She didn't bother to reply but instead looked to her chocolate mousse that stood on the coffee table in a large crystal cup. Even though she didn't feel like eating, her mouth watered at the mere sight of the thing. When she finally took a small sample, she almost died. It tasted like heaven as it sensuously melted on her tongue and trickled down the back of her throat like a silky waterfall.

"You look like your enjoying yourself," Remy commented as he walked back into the room.

Startled, Rogue quickly swallowed and looked up at him. He was carrying several folders in his hands that he placed them on the table before her. Interested, Rogue sat down her spoon.

"That's this?" she asked.

"Profiles on you X-men," he told her, sitting down again. "Magneto did a full research and gave them to us to read. Since we're not enemies anymore, I thought you might what them. They are useless to me now."

Rogue fingered through the folders. Each indeed belonged to particular X-men and there was a lot of information too. More so than she guessed the professor knew himself. Swallowing nervously, she found her folder on the table. It looked like it had been used the most.

Inside she saw a picture of herself along with sheet after sheet of data.

"Oh my god," she whispered. If she had the strength she would have screamed. "My name. You…you've found my name."

"Marie Darkholme," Gambit replied.

Bewildered, she stared down at the paper that told her everything she had forgotten. "And my birthday date too. December 13." She quickly closed the folder and stared at him. "How did you get this?"

He shrugged. "Magneto never told us where he got the information."

Rogue bit her lip and looked away. "Marie," she muttered to herself. "Marie Darkholme. It doesn't ring a bell and yet it sounds so familiar at the same time." She ran her fingers over her eyes, rubbing the ache out of them. "I can't believe I forgot who I was. I still don't know who I am." Rogue frowned as she glared down at her folder. "I don't know Marie."

Gambit nodded. "You look more like a Rogue anyway, chere."

"Thanks," she murmured, returning the folder back to its spot on the coffee table. 

"No problem." 

She shook her head and crossed her arms. "I don't think I can eat anymore," she told him quietly.

"Don't worry. I understand."

She sighed and scooted back from the table, standing up and snatching up her file. As Gambit watched her, she hurried to the nearest window, unlocked it and threw it open. The cold breeze flowed into the room, caressing her now damp face. Rogue didn't even know that she had been crying. 

Shivering and holding her breath, she flung the documents out the window. The milky white sheets of data flew from the folder and fluttered like lost wings as the breeze swallowed them and carried them up into the evening sky. She watched them fly away, disappearing in the darkness, breathing heavy.

She wasn't Marie. She didn't know Marie. She knew Rogue.

"I'm…happy being me," she whispered, wiping her face. "I want to be me."

Even if she wasn't the nicest person on earth, even if she was unbalanced and even a little crazy sometimes, even if she could be vicious and cruel, she had to love herself. There was no reason to inflict anymore pain on herself anymore. On the inside she was a good person. On the inside she was Rogue, a normal mutant girl trying to live her life. She didn't need to pick up the pieces by wondering who she had been. Her life was right before her.

Gambit was suddenly at her side, closing the window as she shivered. After he locked it, his hands were on her shoulders and she was instantly warm by his touch.

"Come on, chere," he whispered, guiding her away from the window. "You'll catch a cold."

"I don't care," Rogue replied honestly, running her hands over her eyes. 

"You look beat. Maybe ya oughta turn in for the night?"

She sighed. "I think you're right, Remy," she told him. "I feel like I haven't slept for days suddenly."

Without saying a word, Gambit walked her front the warm den and down the hall to the bedroom. He opened the door and she walked in, almost collapsing on the bed when she sat down. Yawning, she watched him round the bed and pull back the plush covers for her to crawl inside. 

"Good night, Rogue," he purred after she had settled herself beneath the blankets. 

She didn't even bother to open her eyes when she replied, "Stay with me a bit, Remy?" she didn't know why she asked him that. Maybe her heavy exhaustion was intoxicating her. 

After a moment she heard his sigh and then her heart jumped in her chest when she felt his sit down on the bed. She finally had enough strength to open her eyes to see him lie down next to her on top of the blankets.

"This okay, chere?" he asked.

She nodded and rolled on her side, facing him. Their eyes meet.

"Thank you, Remy," she said after a long minute.

"For what?"

"For everything."

Gambit shrugged. "You're welcome."

Rogue offered a small smile and scooted a little closer so she could rest her forehead against his shoulder. She felt Gambit relax and wrap and arm around her form, holding her securely to his side.

"Even if we can't get close," he murmured. "This ain't half bad."

She laughed softly before she closed her eyes and fell asleep. Gambit continued to stay away and watch her rest. Tenderly, a few of his fingers reached out and touched her pale face. 

He held his breath. Nothing happened. 

His fingers ventured down to her naked mouth, where his thumb greedily caressed her full lower lip. 

No, he mused quietly before settling down on the bed once more and leaving Rogue to her slumber. This ain't half bad at all.

~*~*~*~

"Where the hell can she be?!" Logan growled as he paced around in the professor's office.

Behind his desk, Charles looked troubled. "We still don't know, Logan, but you need to calm down."

"It is not like Rogue to run away without saying anything," the other man said. 

The professor sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. It was evening. Kitty had come to him in yesterday late in the night, saying that she couldn't find Rogue. That made him worried. As of late, the young gothic girl was filled with so much pain and loneliness. Charles feared for her. Not wanting to alarm his other students, he ordered Logan and Storm to search Bayeville while he tried to locate the missing girl with Cerebro. They searched all night. But in the end, they couldn't find her and by now the younger mutants knew of Rogue's absence and were put on edge too.

"Don't worry, Logan," he said after a moment. "Rogue is bound to use her powers soon. When she does, we will find her with Cerebro. We just…have to wait."

"I'm sick of waiting!" Logan shouted, his claws shooting out of his hands.

"That's all we can do now," Ororo calmly stated despite her obvious exhaustion and worry. "We have searched this city for hours and still we have nothing. Rogue will come back."

"What if she's hurt? What if she was kidnapped?"

"She would have used her powers, Logan," Charles said. "No, I think she is well. Because of what has happened to her recently, she might have felt the urge to get away from here."

"But why not tell us?" the weather witch asked, her exasperation showing in her voice. 

Charles didn't know the answer. Just then his door opened and Kurt and Kitty's elfin faces appeared in the shadowy doorway. The two mutants looked sick with apprehension.

"Anything yet?" Kitty asked.

Charles sighed and shook his head. "No. Not yet."

Kitty bit her lower lip, her eyes red from crying, and withdrew from sight. 

"You will let us know as so as possible when she returns?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, Kurt. I will."

The blue elf nodded and quietly shut the door.

Silence returned to the office and Logan began to pace again. Ororo sighed and sat at the edge of her seat, sipping her cup of coffee nervously, while Charles tried once more to pick up any trace of Rogue with his mind. It wasn't long when he found her. His heart stopping beating.

"Rogue is back," he announced to the other adults as he wheeled around his desk to the door. "She's at the gate and has…company."

Logan snarled as he sniffed the air. "I'm going to kill him."

Ororo stood up without much comment and followed Xavier. 

~*~*~*~

Rogue looked at her home and sighed. 

"You better get going if you want to save your hide," she told Gambit. He was sitting on his motorcycle as she stood nearby, not ready to waltz back into the mansion and face everyone.

"Just a bit more, chere," he murmured, reached out to clasp her hand in on of his. Rouge immediately turned and looked down at him. "You take care, all right, Rogue? No more worries, no more regret, or pain, all right?"

Rogue nodded slowly. In the corner of her eye she saw three adults emerge from the mansion. "Okay," she promised.

Gambit saw them too but he didn't react. He was focused on Rogue. "You gotta learn to talk to people. Just because you can't touch doesn't mean you can't open up to people once and awhile. I see three adults willing to take care of you right now, chere. Don't hurt them any more by shutting them out."

Rogue bit her lip, a breath away from crying. "I won't," she whispered. "Thank you, Remy."

He squeezed her hand. "It was my pleasure." He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, her gloves protecting her skin.

She smiled and turned around when she heard Logan all but tearing down the gate to get to her or kill Gambit. Ororo and Xavier looked just as upset.

"Hi," Rogue muttered, timidly looking down at the ground.

Logan growled and glared at Gambit, his claws unsheathed and gleaming menacingly in the evening light. 

"Where have you been, child?" Ororo asked, bracing her hands on her hips. "You just left. There was no note. Nothing! We were so worried about you!"

"I'm sorry," she replied softly. "I just needed to get away for a bit."

"What's the Cajun doing with you?" Logan snarled.

Rogue glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Gambit. "He helped me," she told them.

"Where did you go?"

"New York."

Ororo frowned but didn't say anything. 

"Rogue," Xavier began, "what you did lacked judgment but I do sympathize with your need to 'get a away for a bit' with the recent events that you had to endure. Obviously we all failed you as your guardians but that doesn't the give you the right to leave us without notice. Even though you might not think so, Rogue, you are apart of this family and you do love you. I will talk to you more later tonight, Rogue, to discuss the penalties of you actions."

Rogue nodded mutely. 

"Come on, child," Ororo muttered, stepping forward to wrap an arm around Rogue's shoulder. "Let's go inside. Kitty and Kurt would like to know that you are back safely."

Rouge looked back at Gambit who smiled at her when their eyes met. She returned the smile faintly and let Ororo led her back to the mansion. 

"I don't think it's a good thing to let Logan be alone with Remy right now," she muttered.

Ororo smiled. "Don't worry, child."

When the two women were gone, Logan immediately turned to Gambit and growled. He hated that smug bastard.

"If you've harmed her in anyway," he said, "I'll kill you."

The Cajun didn't look too scared and Xavier was slightly impressed. "Just took care of the fille that's all," he drawled. "Didn't harm her in no way. I swear."

Still Logan didn't look appeased but backed off a little. 

Gambit continued, looking at Xavier with his unusual eyes full of anger, "And you were right saying that you failed as Rogue's guardians, monsieur."

"Don't talk to Charles like that you little punk."

Xavier wheeled forward. "Logan, please, Gambit does make a good point."

"How could you not do anything to help Rogue?! She was sulking under your very noses and yet you didn't give her any help. Did you have any clue that she cut herself because she was feeling so bad?"

Xavier sighed and hung his head. 

"That's what I thought," Gambit hissed and then turned to Logan. "You seem awfully protective of the fille but did you even once let her cry on your shoulder or comfort her?"

Logan growled. 

Gambit scoffed. "No wonder she thought you all hated her."

"We are only human, Gambit," Xavier spoke up. "We have a number of students on our hands and a limited amount of teachers. We can't possibly keep up with everyone even if we want too. There simply isn't enough time in the day. Besides that Rogue can be…difficult to manage sometimes. I know that doesn't make for a feasible excuse but that's a fact."

"You have to push her a little," Gambit told him. 

"I see now where we've failed," the older man sadly murmured. "Rest assure that it will never happen again."

The Cajun looked satisfied. "Good."

At Xavier's side, Logan sighed harshly and stalked back to the mansion. Xavier was left to deal with Gambit who was already preparing to leave.

"Wait, Gambit," the professor spoke out. 

"Oui?"

"With your employer's…absence," he began, "what do you do now?"

Gambit shrugged. "Like I told Rogue, I work for myself at the moment."

Xavier nodded and reached into his pocket to retrieve his card. "With our inadequate number of adults, how would you like it if I offered a position for you here at the institute?"

"What kind of position?"

"With your skill, experience, and age, most likely an instructor for the younger students," Xavier told him. "Will the battle of Apocalypse looming over the horizon, I feel that we might need more teachers in the end."

Gambit took the card Xavier held out for him. He looked down at it for a moment before pocketing it and climbing on his bike. "I'll think about it," he murmured.

"Please do and call me when you've reached your decision."

He nodded and kicked his motorcycle into gear. He was peeling out onto the street in a second. Xavier watched him fly down the rode, hoping that he would he from him in the future.

The End

Author's Note: A very long one shot! How did you like it? Was it okay? I'm nervous about it because there are so many different things going on at once in there. Oh well. I had fun writing it! I hope you had fun reading it.


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